


Pleading for Sanity

by stellarmeadow



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: 2.06, Episode Related, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Ka Hakaka Maika'i, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-26
Updated: 2011-10-26
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:35:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why wasn't Danny the one in the locker room? (Missing scenes from 2.06, Ka Hakaka Maika'i)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pleading for Sanity

**Author's Note:**

> This has been eating my brain for 24 hours now. Unbetaed, because I had to get it out of my head, so please forgive any mistakes.

Danny was waiting for Steve inside the front door of the house. "Please, for the love of God, tell me that you have come to your senses."

"About what?"

"About what? About this stupid idea to get yourself killed for charity, that's what."

Steve blinked. "How did you even hear about that? I only said I'd do it right before I left HQ."

"Because Kono is the undisputed champion of all of Hawaii in speed texting," Danny said, "and she knew I would break her fingers if I wasn't the first one she told."

"Danny, it'll be fine," Steve called over his shoulder on his way to the stairs.

Danny followed him up the stairs to the bedroom. "Fine? No. It will not be fine. You will be broken into a hundred pieces--if you're lucky--and then I will have to run 5-0 _and_ take care of you, and you are the world's worst patient. I ask you, is that really worth it? Couldn't you just donate money instead of blood and teeth?"

Steve had pulled off his shirt and was stepping out of his pants, derailing Danny's rant momentarily. "I'm glad you think so highly of my fighting skills after over a year of being my partner," Steve said as he dropped his underwear, which was Danny's excuse for not jumping in with a comment, "but I promise you, I can handle this."

"You think you can," Danny said, finding speech a little easier when Steve started dressing again, at least until he bent over to get something and Danny got a look at his ass in those jeans, "but...." Shit. He'd had a point.

Steve stood, turning to raise an eyebrow at him. "But?"

"But the last thought you'll have before you die in that ring will be, 'I should've listened to Danny.'"

"I can assure you that that will absolutely not be my last thought. Ever." Steve pulled a polo over his head. "Besides," he said, grabbing clothes out of a drawer and stuffing them into a bag, "I'm not going into a ring."

"You're not?" Danny said, hoping that meant that for once Steve had seen reason.

"No," Steve said, zipping up the bag, "they fight in a cage."

"If this guy doesn't kill you, I'm going to," Danny promised as he followed him out of the room.

***

"I am just saying that for the sake of sanity--mine, not yours, since yours is _clearly_ long gone--please reconsider this."

"Danno, shut up."

Danny growled. "If you go into that ring--"

"--cage."

"Cage," Danny said, through gritted teeth, "I am revoking your right to call me Danno."

Steve actually laughed at that. "Because you've done so well telling me I couldn't do that in the past."

Okay, so he might have a point. "Fine," Danny said, trying not to stare at the sweat that was trickling down Steve's chest into the waistband of the red shorts he was wearing. "Then just let me know what I should tell Grace at your funeral."

He knew he'd scored a point then, as Steve actually paused for a moment, looking slightly guilty, before he shook his head. "That you killed me after I won this fight because I didn't do what you said."

Lori came in before Danny could do more than consider knocking Steve out to stop him from getting his ass kicked. "They said to tell you five minutes," she said, looking nervously between Steve and Danny.

"I'm done trying," Danny said, because he was starting to think seriously about the knocking Steve out idea. "See if you can talk some sense into him and get him to change his mind about letting this guy rearrange his whole body," he said to Lori as he walked out.

He left the locker room, the crowd noise multiplying as he stepped through the door. "Christians and fucking lions," he muttered as he peeked through the curtain. He spotted the team taking their seats and went over to complain to them that Steve wasn't listening, but he'd long ago stopped getting any actual surprise on that front from them. He mostly did it just to let off steam because Steve wasn't listening. Again.

When there was a minute left, Danny made his way back to the curtain, pushing it out of the way and stepping behind it, clinging to the last shred of hope that he would find out Steve had changed his mind. "That's your cue," Danny said, "and your last chance to back out."

Steve had the gall to look annoyed. "Would you...?" he says, jerking his thumb--or, rather, his whole ridiculous half-gloved hand, behind him.

"You did try to talk him out of this, right?" he asked Lori as they followed Steve on his death march to doom.

"Yeah, I did. It didn't really...work."

"Clearly."

"Aw, not that guy." Danny spotted a white towel beside the cage and picked it up. "Look at this, this is perfect."

"What are you doing?" Steve asked.

"Getting ready to throw in the towel before you die."

Steve looked singularly unimpressed. "Mouth guard."

"Mouth guard. You need a helmet, not a mouth guard." He pulled the mouth guard out of his pocket, where he'd hidden it earlier, trying to convince Steve the rules wouldn't let him in the cage without it, so he was screwed. He rinsed the guard off, kind of hoping there was pocket lint left on it just because it would serve McGarrett right, before putting it in Steve's mouth, and hoping his mouth was still in some sort of shape to kiss again before Thanksgiving.

Making a show of blessing him, just because he knew it would piss Steve off, Danny resisted the urge to grab Steve and cuff him to the side of the cage, watching him walk into it like a cocky son of a bitch instead. Lori wandered off to join the team, but Danny couldn't leave. He had to stay there, even if he was close enough to hear each cracking bone, because it was Steve. Getting hit. Hard.

Well, if nothing else, maybe the fight would knock some sense into him.

It didn't look like it, though, judging by the way Steve slammed solidly against the cage right by Danny a moment later. "Okay, stay down," Danny insisted. "You wanna go home? Let's go home. Stay down. It's charity. Don't get up."

But clearly 'let's go home' as a euphemism for 'let's have sex' didn't seem to register, as Steve just looked at him, got back up, and walked right back over to continue his charity stint as a punching bag. And if Danny cheered when Steve jumped off the side of the cage like Batman and landed on the other guy, he wasn't going to admit it, and he sure as hell knew Steve wouldn't remember hearing it, not with the way he was knocked on his ass soundly right after.

The fight was mercifully short after that, and the whole team was in the dressing room telling Steve just how the fight went--probably because they all (probably rightly) assumed he was too rattled in the head to remember. Danny listened silently, enjoying the relief that had left him all but giddy, as he played with the stupid gloves until Chin told Steve that his stupid actions were, "pure _imua_."

"That means 'pure stupidity' and we're all in agreement," Danny  said, but he was too relieved to say it with any heat.

Steve just grinned at him. "Whatcha got going on with that hand, there, Danno?" he asked.

"I'm about to give you a beatin' buddy." Danny grinned at him, waving him closer. "Bring it."

He heard Steve's phone beep as the others started taking bets on who would win the fight--and Danny made a note to do something nice for Kamekona for actually betting on Danny, until he remembered Kamekona was the worst gambler in history.

Their bets faded into background noise when Danny saw the look on Steve's face--he might've fooled everyone else, but Danny knew that look. He also knew the hasty way Steve made his way out, turning down free beer because he had to 'take care of something.'

The case was over, they didn't have a new one, and there was nothing else that needed their attention, which left just one thing: Wo Fat and Steve's father. Which meant the text was probably from Joe. At least Danny hoped it was--it was, scarily, the safest possibility.

He turned down the invitation to beers as well, watching the others go off  towards their cars, still arguing over who would win in a fight between Steve and Danny. Danny didn't have to argue--he knew he'd win, because Steve wouldn't let himself hurt Danny. Not physically anyway.

Danny stopped on the way to Steve's and picked up some Longboards. When he got to Steve's, he put the beers in ice and took them out to the beach. He'd almost finished one when he heard the truck pull up. Steve would know he was here by the car, it was just a question of whether or not he'd make Danny come find him.

A moment later that question was answered as Danny heard footsteps on the sand a few seconds before he saw Steve's hand grab a bottle and the opener. Only when the bottle was open did Steve move around to where Danny could see him. "Joe?" Danny asked finally.

Steve gave him a startled look for about half a second before nodding with a small, tight smile, but he didn't say anything, just took a long drink.

"Are we gonna play twenty questions?" Danny asked, suddenly tired. "Or are you just going to tell me? Because I kind of thought we were past that."

"Sorry," Steve said, after a moment, taking another drink before dropping down into the chair beside Danny. "I just--"

"I know," Danny said, because he did. Knowing didn't make it any less aggravating, but he knew. "Just tell me."

Steve took a deep breath. "Mokoto's dead."

Which wasn't what Danny had been expecting. "How?"

"Tortured and murdered," Steve said. "Joe found him."

"You think it was one of Wo Fat's men?"

"I think it was Wo Fat himself." Steve turned his head just enough to meet Danny's eyes. "Apparently he was at Joe's last night. Beat him up pretty badly before disappearing."

And Joe obviously hadn't bothered to tell Steve, which, combined with the other secrets he'd been keeping.... "You think Joe knows Wo Fat better than he let on?" he guessed.

"I don't know what to think," Steve said, turning his bottle around in his hands. "He brought a lip-reading specialist out from LA to analyze the video of my father's meeting with Wo Fat and the Governor," Steve said in a low voice. "That's where I was when we caught the case."

Another thing Steve hadn't bothered to mention. "You didn't think to tell me?"

"We were working the case," he said.

"And when we got home?"

"You were in the shower."

And Steve had joined him, and...okay, he couldn't quite fault him for that, since they'd been a bit distracted. Still. "I assume you know that there were many other opportunities for you to tell me."

"I know...it's just...." Steve finished his beer and dropped the bottle beside the chair. "Joe said this was our fault," he said, turning his body towards Danny a little. "He said we did this with our questions."

"Our fault? I'm sorry, did I miss the part where we killed anyone? Wo Fat did this. And he's going to keep on doing it until we stop him."

"I know. That's what I told him."

But was it what he believed? "I hope you sounded more sure of yourself with Joe," Danny said, "because you're sounding a little guilty right now."

"It's not guilt...it's just.... Steve stared out at the waves. "What if we find out that my _father_ was guilty?" he asked after a long moment, turning to look at Danny again. "What if we ruin his reputation?"

Danny still thought there was a little misplaced guilt over the deaths there, but he wasn't doubting Steve's worries about his father, either--even if Danny felt those were likely misplaced as well. "Your father did whatever he did--or did not do," Danny said quietly. "You're not responsible for his actions any more than you are for Wo Fat's. The only thing you can do is figure out what really happened and stop anyone else from getting hurt."

"No matter what it does to the people who loved him?"

"It won't kill you if you find out something you don't want to know," Danny said. "But I don't think you will."

"How do you know?"

"I don't," Danny said. "But I don't _think_ you will. Too many people are trying to use it to stop you--to me that's usually a pretty good indication that they're trying to lead you off the trail."

Steve thought for a moment. "Joe keeps telling me I might not want to know."

"Joe also told you for four weeks that he was working on the video while he was sitting on it and doing nothing."

"I know."

Danny finished his beer and sat up. "Okay, enough thinking for now," he said, putting the empties back in the cooler. He picked it up with one hand, and used the other to grab Steve's hand and pull him out of the chair and towards the house.

"You can't stop me from thinking," Steve said, but Danny could hear the smile in his tone, and he noticed Steve followed along like a puppy instead of fighting him.

"I can't--" Danny turned to walk backwards for a few steps. "I can't stop you from thinking? I beg to differ," he said, turning back to navigate them both into the house. He left the cooler on the kitchen table and pulled Steve through the house, walking backwards once more. "I believe I have perfected my techniques on making you forget how to think."

Steve pretended to consider that. "Maybe a little," he admitted, resisting just enough that Danny stopped, his body flush against Steve's.

"More than a little," Danny murmured, eyeing Steve's lips for a second before giving in to the need for a kiss. "And now," he added, as he started pulling Steve towards the stairs again, "I'm going to reward you for actually sharing information instead of hoarding it all to yourself."

"Reward me?"

Danny nodded as he led Steve up the stairs. "Reward you. Because I have you figured out. You're like an overgrown puppy, and I have to reward you for good behavior to encourage more of it."

"A puppy?"

He stopped at the door to the bedroom. "A pit bull puppy, but yes. A puppy."

"If I don't argue do I get my reward?"

"You do." Danny kissed him, pushing him back towards the bed. "See how well that works?"

Steve opened his mouth, then seemed to realize he'd get his reward that much faster with silence and closed it instead.

"Good boy," Danny said, shoving him down onto the bed.

"Okay," Steve said, looking amused and far less stressed for the moment, "but if you buy me a collar, I'm not wearing it."

"We'll see about that."

\---

END

**Author's Note:**

> Want to learn more about me and my writing? Visit my page at <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com/>


End file.
